


love always wakes the dragon

by uItimate



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Adoption, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 21:20:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11952867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uItimate/pseuds/uItimate
Summary: I nod again, looking out the window to watch the trees blur into one shade of green as we pass by. He smiles a sweet smile at me, and turns to blue eyes, striking up a conversation. I watch as they laugh and blush; shoving each other a little as the other stumbles on the sidewalk, a tease here and there and ohshut up, phil.





	love always wakes the dragon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dizzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/gifts).



> this is v v v series of unfortunate of events type shit but please just go with me on this ,, also i dedicate this to dizzy for her awesome work ! i wish that one day, i may be able to write just as well as u

The men who had taken us on a rainy Saturday morning, ten o'clock a.m.— where the thunder crashed the hardest— were certainly strange, but charming. Charmingly strange. One of them had little craters on the sides of his cheeks, and when he smiled hard enough, they blasted out at full speed. There was a curl that dangled from his face, and I kind of wanted to, right then and there, brush it away with my hand. The other sported a Northern accent mixed with a calming voice that sounded like it would be pretty good for storytelling. I wonder if he has any stories to tell, himself, but judging by the glowing serenity that radiated from him, his hand covering what looks like to his husband's; and the ring that glittered in the light, but not as bright as his blue eyes seemed to be, however—  that the biggest story might be right here.  
  
“Your name is Anya, right?” Dimple Man asks.  
  
I nod.  
  
“That's a nice name,” He quipps.  
  
I nod again, looking out the window to watch the trees blur into one shade of green as we pass by. He smiles a sweet smile at me, and turns to blue eyes, striking up a conversation. I watch as they laugh and blush; shoving each other a little as the other stumbles on the sidewalk, a tease here and there and oh  _shut up,_ phil.  
  
Blue eyes smirks and pokes his dimple. “Okay, Howell-Lester,” He counters. “But this isn't over.”  
  
I smile as they watch them; people in the orphanage weren't as happy lovey dovey as they were, so it was a pretty nice change.  
  
As we approach the house, I took it in with a gaping mouth. Both of them look at my expression and laugh a little. "It's pretty big, huh?" Dimple says.  
  
“It's tremendous,” I say. William babbles in agreement.  
  
“Well, you haven't seen the inside, then. It's even bigger.” He puts his hand on my back and leads me through the house, in all of it's hanged paintings and painted walls; grey carpet and several rooms, rushing up to their dog (they called him Sable), petting him— mooning over him. Yet I don't let go of William's hand.  
  
He shows me to my room. It's fairly large, with girly stuff all around. He clearly doesn't know me. I don't blame him.  
  
“You like it?” He looks hopeful.  
  
I lie. "Yes."  
  
He beams at this. "You can go take a look," He says, and leaves with a flourish. “Whoa, whoa, careful there.” I hear outside the door.  
  
I take the opportunity to look around, like he told me to. The room is big, the house is big, everything is wonderful nice good, and my new parents seem nice and awesome, they seemed to be well off and well loved, because I saw a girl squeal at the sight of them when we passed by a park. I don't get why I feel so uncertain. I've wanted this for years maybe, that's why. It's all too easy for me to obtain.  
  
I close my eyes until all I can hear are confessions and rushed dialogue, trying to focus.  _You wanted this?_ I think.  _Well, you've got it now._  
  
You've got it now. I repeat it to myself- if only it'll sink in.  
  
**  
  
I wake up because I can't sleep.  
  
I check the clock up above me, shining it with a flashlight I always carry around in my bag. It's shaped like an owl and tick-tocks at odd hours. 12:00 a.m, it reads. I shouldn't be awake.

Voices ring out throughout the hallway, and curiosity flows through me.

“Are we even ready for a twelve year old?” I hear. My heart drops; shatters.

“What made you so unsure?”

“I mean, she's twelve. A couple of years from now and she’ll be a teenager. A teenager! Do you even know what comes with that responsibility?”

There's a huff. I walk forward to their door, feeling for it, and I pressing my ears against it.

“Bahbahbah,” William blabbers.

I start to panic. “Shh,” I warn him, whisperingly. “I need to hear what they’re saying.”

“There’s also a toddler with her. We couldn't have left him there.”

“Yes, but—”

I listen for the next fifteen minutes, sinking to the ground. It's uncertainty, at first. Then reassurance. My fingers dug into the soft grey carpet. “You chose her because you saw something in her. We both did, I think.” It was blue eyes’ voice. The calm was unmistakable.

“Yeah.”

“So, let's just see. We can handle this together, I know we can.”

Silence. Then— “Okay. Let's try.”

“Good.”

I start to walk to bed.

“Hey, Phil?” I hear. I pause in my tracks.

“Yeah?”

“I’m still pretty glad, even after all these years, that I get to have this. Have you.”

A light giggle escaped from Phil's lips. “All it took was a little harrassment.”

“We can handle this.”  _Dan_ continues, repeats. So that's his name. Even though it shouldn't matter to me, I guess.

 _Phil_ pauses at this, blank faced. I could tell they know I'm watching them. They ignore me.

He says, “Yeah. I think we can.” He smiles. Dan smiles back. I can see the warmness of it even in the dark.

“I have a feeling a certain someone is watching us.” Phil points out. “Want to go check?” At his words I panic. There’s a rustling of blankets, and footsteps start to hit the ground.

My breath hitches. I quickly saunter back to bed.

**

_“Do you think she’s awake?” Dimples says._

_Blue eyes says, “I don't know. Looks like it.”_

_“You go check, then.”_

_“Why are we literally outside the door?”_

_“Cause we’re worried that she’s the type of kid to throw her pillow at us once she wakes up.”_

_“We’re bad parents, truly.”_

Here's what they don't know: that I haven't had a solid parent in my life, that I wouldn't throw away this chance at a better life as if it's a pearl white, fluffy pillow; easily discardible, replaceable. Here’s what I know: five years from now, sitting in high school, even with my hands intertwined with another girls’, I'll never be able to share the same strong, unwavering, never-let-go ardor as they do with each other.

I'm okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading ! i'd appreciate your feedback on this one


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